


One Evening

by CyanideCherub



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Deflowering, F/M, First Time, Guidance, Light Dom/sub, Prostitution, Sex Education, marriage prep, peep hole underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideCherub/pseuds/CyanideCherub
Summary: Noctis is a Prince and as such he is expected to perform for King and Country, that means nothing can be remiss. That's where you come in -- you're a high class sex educator, ready to teach the young Prince just how to please himself and his bride to be.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader, Noctis Lucis Caelum/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	One Evening

**Author's Note:**

> I'm continuing a series! This is in part with One Night - A Prompto x F!Reader. I'm hoping to continue with One Day for Ignis and One Morning for Gladio. 
> 
> Please, enjoy.

Your heels clicked against the smooth marble in a metronome of confidence as you pulled the faux fur coat closer to your skin. A man carved of bronze and amber led you in silence across the foyer and to the penthouse floor's elevator. He held the door and your gaze. You gave him a polite thank you and straightened yourself up as the doors glided to a close; this was probably going to be one of the most important jobs of your career. The door pings quickly as you reach the top and another man is stood at the other side, he's pristine – clean cut, pressed and fresh. His eyes are sharp, almost hawkish and framed by svelte glasses that simply add to his regal look. He holds out a hand.

“Ignis Scientia, steward to his Highness.”

You take it firmly, disarming him with a smile. “Charmed,” you reply.

The steward hums with an air of conceit, and you notice your guide moving to the side of him, arms folded not sure what to make of you. Were all men in the royal court this dashing?

“I assume everything is in order?” The steward asked, though it was more of statement than a request. Of course it was, you were a professional, and they had sought you first of all. You reached into your clutch, and handed over a sealed envelope. He opened and examined it with scrutiny, taking peeks over the page to analyse you. “Very well,” he concedes after some time. “Just one more precaution before I take you to conduct your business with his Highness. Gladio, if you would.”

The carved Adonis named Gladio steps towards you and speaks for only the second time since your meeting. “Sorry, Miss. Gotta double check you're not – up to something. Now, if you wouldn't mind opening that coat.”

You nod in permission and unhook the clasps of the fur coat, revelling in the audible gasps from both men at your outfit. When you were younger your body was a source of contempt, of pain and anger. Yet, as you reached womanhood you realised it was an asset, a tool, a product of boundless beauty that could make great men, and women, bow to your every whim. Now it had proven it's worth once more, snagging you a delightful Princeling – with long evening of debauchery and deflowering for the Lucian Son. At the Crown's behest no less. Below the fur coat and draped across your curved form was the requested outfit of the Prince, you could appreciate his desire. Usually the clients tastes were not your own, and you simply complied; the Prince however had a particular taste you could get on board with. He had sent you a halter-neck black velvet romper suit, high-waisted, low cut. Thigh high leather boots that were simple, yet devastating. And below all that? The main attraction, sheltered by your risqué outfit and the Prince's eyes only. His own personal fantasy generously decorated across your curved form. Black lace and purple satin peep hole lingerie – which you couldn't wait to show your client, it was certain to drive him wild.

Gladio handled you with delicacy and care, ghosting over your skin as if wanting to take you for himself. He was satisfied with his search quickly and nodded to the Steward – Ignis.

“Well then, follow me.” Ignis strode ahead, you could tell he wasn't happy about the arrangement, but it wasn't his job to be happy about it – just to lead you to your client. He swiped a card in a pocket by the unsuspecting front door and it flashed green before clicking open. He led you into a modest bachelor pad, made of chrome, sharp edges and that classic Lucian décor in black. The Prince was attempting to lounge coolly against a steely grey L shaped sofa, but you could see the nerves on his face – they were always nervous before meeting you. “Highness,” he announced your arrival with a little bow. “Your guest for the evening has arrived.”

The Princeling rose to his feet, as straight as he could and offered you a hand. “Hey – glad you could come.”

He was cute, really. Just entering manhood; that awkward in-between stage where he wasn't quite handsome and still very pretty. Alabaster skin, piercing blue eyes and unruly indigo hair that hadn't quite learned how to behave. You took his hand in yours, noticing how much bigger it was, but just as soft, bar a few callouses on the inside of his palm. “Thank you for the invite, your Highness.”

You could see his face cringing slightly. “Noctis, please.”

Ignis tutted from beside you. “Alright,” you appeased. “Noctis. I look forward to getting to know you this evening.”

“R-right.”

Gods. He was fucking adorable.

Ignis cleared his throat. “Well, Sire if you'll excuse myself and Gladio. Dinner is prepared, wine is in the cooler.” He walked towards his Prince and cast you a searing look. “Just remember, while tradition, if you change your mind at any point – myself and Gladio are a phone call away.”

His concern for his ward was touching, but it narked you a bit. “You have my word that he is in full control. Nothing will happen without his unwavering consent. If he needs to stop at any time, all he has to do is say the word, and that's it – no questions asked.”

Noctis turned to his Steward/friend and clapped him against the arm. “I'm fine, Iggy, quit worrying. Go enjoy the rest of your night off.”

Resigned, Ignis bowed and took his leave. Leaving you alone with the Prince and his desires. Noctis readjusted his shirt and ran his fingers up his bare forearms. He cleared his throat and hummed to himself, he was clearly not used to the company of women.

“So – uh – would you like some dinner, before we start?” He gestured to the set table.

You shrug off the fur coat and throw it over the back of the sofa. “I appreciate the effort, but that's not what I'm here for tonight. Though I've no doubt that your Steward's cooking is fantastic. I can wait for you, if you like.” You take a seat, flicking one knee over the other, feeling the leather crunch around your thigh.

The Prince shook his head, and took a seat next to you. “No – it's fine. I don't want to make you wait.”

You bopped him on the nose with your finger and cast him a bright smile. “And that's lesson one learnt. Your blushing bride to be will not be willing to wait for your affections. You need to learn to read her moods, and her wants. So pay close attention _Noctis_ and you might just learn something.”

He sat up straight, like a rod was shoved down his spine, a warm blush danced across his pale cheeks. You twisted your body to face him, giving him a great view of your ample curves, watching as his eyes greedily pulled you in.

“Now then, what do you think I want first?”

He stuttered, pulling his lips tight into his mouth. “ I – uh – hmm –”

You lower your voice and reach for one of his tightly coiled hands. “I want to be touched, first. In every place you can think of. Start some where small. My knee, my shoulder, the back of my wrist. You think erogenous zones are just my tits and my clit? No – with the right touch you can get a woman turned on in any place. So go ahead, touch me.”

Noctis shuffled on the sofa, pulling himself as close as he dared, fingers trembling; his mind in over-drive and not sure where to start. He settled for your thigh, a swath of exposed flesh between the velvet and the leather, guiding soft fingers against softer flesh.

“Good,” you praised. “Keep going.”

They trickled across to your plump hand that rested on your knee, caressing in small circles up your arm and to the top of your shoulder; Noctis' side pressing against you as he found himself more involved. He touched your neck, your collar, your soft, round cheeks, anything he could get his hands on or under.

“Is this the one I asked for?” Noctis asked, playing with the satin strap of your peep hole bra.

“Would you like to see it?”

He smirked.

“Soon... not yet.”

Without guidance he began to use his lips, in the comfort of his own home – drunk on the desire of you his lips grazed your flesh in accordance with his deft fingers. He had a remarkable smell, rich cologne, soft soap, a heady musk that would no doubt drive his bride to be to a lusty frenzy – but you were professional and while his cute face and naïvety would drive some mad, you would not be – _Oh._ Noctis nipped at your neck, fingers under your chin, giving him freer reign of your form. His tongue dragged the length of your neck up to your ear lobe, his soft moan vibrating down your ear canal. His lips smacked against your rounded jaw, warm tongue darting out to taste your flesh.

“Now, what do you think I want?” You asked, eyes focused on the evening thrum of Insomnia.

His soft chuckle reverberated through your throat, his fingers guided your chin to his face. Soft pink lips, glistening and puffy. “If I were you, I'd want to be kissed.” He tilted his head, and found your cherry red stained lips. Connecting and pressing with expert ease.

He tugged on your bottom lip, licked the top, trying to part them to tease at your tongue as his hands cupped your face and played with the tresses of your hair.

You pulled away and grinned. “You've practised that one, Highness.”

His bliss filled eyes creased with a smile. “I happen to have a very liberal best friend who uses kissing as a punishment. He's a good teacher....”

You chuckled, scoring your fingers along his carved, pale neck. “Maybe I need to hire him... or maybe he needs to hire me.” Noctis huffed out of his nose, a little jealous perhaps? You reached for one of his lanky hands, pulling it from your hair, to your face, suckling on the tip of his finely manicured fingers to pull him from his jealous funk. “I apologise, that was unprofessional. Your bride would never talk about other men in the bedroom – which is where you should be leading me. Making love in the living room is great, but your first time should always be in the bedroom. Do you have everything I requested?”

Eyeing his slicked finger Noctis was dazed for a moment, probably imagining the other things your pert mouth could do. “Yeah,” he replied eventually, leading by the hand to the master bedroom, his palm a little bit clammy. He opened the door and gave you a sheepish look as he entered his domain. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect.”

He had done as requested, you noticed as you lured him to the silk sheets. Scented candles were dotted around the pitch black room like fading stars. On the night stand was a box of condoms, a range of lube and baby wipes. On an out of place chesterfield armchair was a set of impeccably folded white towels and dressing gowns. The mood was serene and amorous, at least it was for him in his humble naivety. You guided Noctis to the edge of the bed, running your hands over him, pushing unruly hair away from his scalp to see the unfettered lust in his royal eyes. His hands came to your wide hips as you unbuttoned his shirt, fingers digging into the velvet and your luscious flesh. You stood back from the Prince in a moment of admiration and almost jealously for his soon to be bride, imaging watching that precious face come undone every night? Lucky girl.

“Watch me,” you commanded as he pined for your touch from his place on the bed. “It's just as important to look as it is to touch. You'll need to make your bride feel like she is the only woman in the world you'll ever lust over. She needs to feel revered. Desired. You'll need to worship her every move, every touch, every smell. When you fall into bed with her, consume and be consumed by her. Do you understand?”

His hands balled into the expensive sheets, his perfectly crafted body heaved as he watched you. The Prince gave the barest of acknowledgement, so you continued.

The halter-neck was held together by a clasp and a zip, you undid the zip first, the material hung snug against your skin. You kept Noctis in your focus and your fiddled with the clasp, watching as in one fell swoop the one piece fell away, revealing your bra and with a quick sweep of your hands fell into a puddle on the floor giving the Prince a peek of his prize. You loved the way the underwear made you feel. A graceful femininity in soft lace, and sleek satin. With a skein of slutty in it's slits at the nipples and gaping hole of your thong. The thong itself was a work of beauty, your pubic bone mostly hidden behind the material, then it just gave away, framing your pussy with rows of pink pearls; with four strings that held it together by the meat of your hips, drawing the eye of your grateful liege to your greatest weapon.

You could see his tented erection, painful against his slacks. One of his tightly coiled hands from the sheets to his hair, dragging it back against his scalp. Noctis was drowning in desire, the need for a sticky, sweet release, and he wanted to find it within you.

“Fuck. You look amazing,” he grunted, biting his bottom lip from pastel to white. “Can I touch you again?”

You took the steps towards him, one thigh each side of his knee. You ran your hands over the length of your own curves, gently teasing over the gash of the thong, a shiver down your spine as the Princeling licked his lips. “You'd better.”

His long arms reached for you, clawing into the meat of your arse; his eager fingers hooked in pulled to you to him. Noctis settled for you kneeling over him, your heavy chest in his face and exposed pussy over his aching, clothes erection. He played with the bountiful flesh of your arse cheeks, sharp fingers grabbing handfuls at a time as he opens his mouth wide and feasts on your expansive stomach.

“Gentle!” You hiss, yanking him back by his hair. “Take your time.”

Violet eyes dipped in hazy lust looked at you. “Right, sorry. I just –”

You planted a rewarding kiss on the Prince's clammy brow. “It's fine, keep going.”

It didn't take long before curious fingers and an inquisitive tongue played with your nipples beneath the brocaded lace. He slurped greedily, humming in pleasure as his lips smacked against your sensitive nub. Noctis reached back, grabbing for the special lube on the night stand, before covering his hands and your nipples in chocolate flavoured lube. Lapping up every last bit with eager satisfaction.

Chest heaving, Noctis gave you a shy look. “I want more...” He whispered, hands resting on the inside of your warm thighs, looking at the glistening mess on his slacks. “Can I touch you there?”

His question was almost reserved, you'd say yes, it's what you were getting paid for, but there was nothing as sexy as consent.

“Yes, Noctis.”

The Prince stored incredibly strength within his taut body; within seconds you went from domineering him to being domineered by him. He'd flipped you on to the sheets, and then rested between your thighs. He took off the once crisp shirt and threw it to the floor into the heap of clothes. Noctis almost looked embarrassed as you viewed him a state few saw.

“The slacks come off too,” you advised.

He agreed with a nervous hum. Noctis slid off the bed, and fumbled with buttons, eyes flitting between you and the tailored slacks. Like a teenaged girl on Prom Night he stood before you, a bundle of nerves at his almost naked body. He held his arms across his chest, as you viewed him. He really was beautiful. Toned legs and arms, taut chest, calves and a decent sized cock, peddled away in expensive, designer briefs. Throw it all in with that signature Lucian look and he was easiest one of the most stunning creatures you'd every seen.

“You want to keep going?” You asked, and he affirmed with a quick nod.

“Am I – okay?” The question came from an adolescent fear, one you supposed everyone went through, even Princes.

You smirked, prying your legs apart for the Princeling to see. “Come between my legs and find out.”

He was an eager learner, you could give him that. Happily nestled into your cunt, an ear listening out for your direction or your delight. You weren't getting paid to lie, he needed to be ready to please his bride after all. You were pleased with his ability to 'get stuck in', not all of your clients were wiling or capable of pleasing a woman with their hands and mouth alone. Most of these royal brats only wanted to pump you full of seed and parade you as there mistress, which didn't happen and they either learnt how to pleasure their partner or you dropped them like a brick. Noctis was a star pupil in that respect, hair sticking to his brow, his nose pressed against your clit and his tongue trying bury itself into your walls. You came not long after that, Noctis supping up your spend like his life depended in it. He raised himself to his haunches, punch drunk on his own lust and rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was that, enough?”

You laughed at the Prince and brought yourself to your knees to reward him with a kiss. After all if he was ready to go down on you, you had to be ready to taste yourself on his lips. “You have a real talent for it. With some practice your lovely bride will be quivering and squirting from your fingers alone.”

You could see the thought crossing his mind, his face between the lovely oracles creamy, thighs, watching her angelic voice crying out in sinful delight, he liked the idea of it, so did you.

“I'd like to be able to do that... for her. If she wants it.” Noctis thought out-loud confiding in you. You'd have no doubt even the oracle would like to get her rocks off every now and again. “Now what happens?”

_How cute._

You rub his shoulders, down his shoulder blades, along some scar tissue near his spine, back up along his arm and cup his cheeks. “Well, any number of things. I suppose, she could tease you, give you a blowjob, a hand job, tease your ass, use toys, use food, ice play, tie you up, blindfold you, or even just stick to the part where you fuck her silly.” He shuddered, as you placed a light kiss against his bottom lip. “Or she might not want to go any further, and you'll have to respect her decision, regardless of your own need for her. Understand?”

He nodded.

“However, I'm here for your practice. So, why don't you be a dear, take off your underwear and fuck me?” With a tug of his lip you let him go and he raced from the bed, his nerves suddenly vanished and he dashed for the condom box and ripped into the packet. You rested against the bed on your side, elbow keeping your head up. “How confident are you, using one of those?”

It was a legitimate question, you'd had many clients who thought they would just ride you raw and then you would spend the first session teaching them how to have safe sex, which would ruin their mood but not yours. But you needn't have worried, the Prince was perfectly capable it seemed.

“I – uh – practised,” he said with a deft 'ask no questions' shrug before lubing himself up with another bottle on the night stand – this time a water based lube.

“Aren't you bothered about your expensive sheets?” You asked with a cheeky smile and the Prince crawled onto the bed and back between your thighs.

“No?” His face scrunched, as if that was such a strange question.

“Next lesson, sex doesn't have to be scary and serious, it can be fun and silly too. We'll make strange sounds, get cramp and get tired. So just take it at your own pace, alright?” You grabbed him by the base of his cock and guided him to your waiting entrance. “Just remember to keep my pleasure in mind, you pounding into me isn't going to finish me off.”

He swallowed hard, a wealth of information was trying to lay claim in his brain but all he could think of was his cock being clamped around your glistening, pink walls. The mood was set, the room smelled of 'Lucian Summer' whatever that was; he was in the company of a beautiful, experienced and resourceful woman. Noctis was ready. With a strained gasp he inched himself into your warm body. You urged him to breath as he reached his zenith. Rocking your hip to reach his. He buried his hands under your hip and moved. Slowly. Carefully. Just feeling the new experience and the way his body felt.

The Prince filled you up, that was for certain. But that would mean nothing if he forgot about your own pleasure. Thankfully some of his brains remained in his skull and he readjusted. One hand honed in on your clit and the other gave him some leverage against your thigh. He gave a cautionary thrust, trembling as he went.

“Yes, Noctis! That's it keep going!”

He moved a little faster. A little harder. Rotating his finger softly against your engorged clit.

“Aw, fuck you feel so good.”

He grunted, it was borderline feral. His fingers coiled around the thong, pulling it tighter as each thrust rippled through your body. One of the strings snapped under his tension. He looked at you in surprise, stilled for a second, before tearing the thing from your heated body, exposing your full pussy to him. Running his fingers through your pubic hair he began to pound you again, thong in the other hand.

That was unexpected from the little Prince.

He moved from your very stimulated pussy, to the heavy breasts that were taunting him with each jiggling thrust. He took both into his mouth at once, his thrusts becoming erratic as he did, but you could still feel it throughout your whole pelvis. He suckled, nibbled, and bit, causing waves of painful pleasure to course through you.

“I'm so _close_ , Noctis!” There was a fury in his eyes, born of new desire and a strange need to appease you.

He let go of your swollen tits and found your pussy once more, rubbing firm circles into your clit with tight, little thrusts to accompany each rotation. His face tightened, muscles rippled under taut skin and you knew he was right there with you. You moaned, and writhed, giving him as much visual fodder for his end as you could. Lightening shot up from your core and flashed through your whole body. With a scream, your orgasm came, the strongest it had been for a long time, and with the tightening of your walls Noctis followed suit. Letting out a hoarse, strangled moan as he bucked his hips into your heat, feeling as his seed filled the latex sleeve, wishing it was pouring straight into your womb.

As he rode the aftershocks, he pulled out slowly and fell to your side, full condom still latched onto his dick. He gasped for breath, marbled chest covered in a dewy sheen, strands of wiry hair stuck to his forehead. You moved it away from his brow and he thanked you with a small smile.

“How are you?” You asked, normally it would be bad form to ask about performance, but it was his first time.

“Is it always this tiring?” He gasped between heavy breathes as you caressed his arm.

“Not always,” it was true sometimes he won't have to lift a finger, you can imagine him bound, gagged and begging for release.

“Will you stay for a little bit?”

You pondered it thoughtfully. “How about I give you a hand getting a shower? Then you can call your Steward and let him know you're alright, so he can stop his motherly panic and I can tell him you're thoroughly deflowered.”

Lethargy hit you both as you showered, showing the Prince the proper way to clean after your session, and to clean his bride to be. He wanted to take you again in the shower, cock poised after it's brief engagement in adult pleasure.

“I don't think so, Highness. Maybe next time.” You laughed as you ran a small towel through his wet hair.

He looked pleased, hopeful even. “So there's a next time?”

“If you need my services before your departure, then yes.”

“Maybe you could show me other things.”

“Other things?” You enquired putting your romper back on and zipping your boots up.

He'd flung a pair of pyjama's on at this point as he threw the top coverlet into the laundry basket, looking much more comfortable, but no less handsome. “Yeah, like toys and stuff... my best friend said there is a lot of _other stuff_ you can do.”

You walked through to the main lounge and the Prince followed, finding your fur coat for you and sliding it over your shoulders. “It's something we can discuss, I suppose, if you're willing. But not tonight, I think I've taught you enough for one evening.”

Noctis ran his hand through still damp hair. “Thank you... I guess. I mean this has been weird but – you're nice.”

You flashed the young Prince a smile, plastered a pink kiss on his cheek and parted with a hug. “You're not too bad yourself, Noctis.” You hear the elevator ping and decide that's your cue to leave. “Keep the underwear, think of it a memento of your first conquest.”

You left the apartment leaving the Prince in a dizzy embarrassment and rushing to hide his prize from his Steward and his Bodyguard. They both greeted you in the landing, Gladio happier to see you than Ignis. A car was waiting as you hit the foyer, heels clicking in triumph as you end your evening, your one evening of pleasure and education with the Crowned Prince of Lucis.


End file.
